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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23521108">Known By Their Deeds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliff/pseuds/Cliff'>Cliff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Scandal, Serious Injuries, Violence, heed the tags</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:20:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23521108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliff/pseuds/Cliff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A troubled young Cadet with a terrible secret begins training on the U.S.S Enterprise. What follows threatens to tear apart the very fabric of Star Fleet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. An Escape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>
    <em>They that have power to hurt and will do none,</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>That do not do the thing they most do show,</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Who, moving others, are themselves as stone,</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow:</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>They rightly do inherit heaven's graces</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>And husband nature's riches from expense;</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>They are the lords and owners of their faces,</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Others but stewards of their excellence.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>The summer's flower is to the summer sweet</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Though to itself it only live and die,</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>But if that flower with base infection meet,</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>The basest weed outbraves his dignity:</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em> William Shakespere.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p class="p1">
    <strong> <em> <span class="s1">"Star Date </span> <span class="s2">2369.6. We are once again approaching Earth. This will afford the crew some much overdue shore leave,and opportunity for us to welcome the Star Fleet Academy’s newest Second year Cadets, for field training in various roles on the enterprise. Admiral Superintendent Russell of the Academy has been overseeing their academic progress and will soon brief me on our newest recruits."</span> </em> </strong>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">Picard smiled to himself as he stared out at the familiar outline of North America. The comfortingly familiar Planet welcoming the Enterprise into orbit once again. It had been a long time, and despite his inherent longing and hunger for the unknown, he was glad to be home, if only for a short while. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“Come”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">Data entered, greeting the Captain with his customary head tilt. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“Sir… I have your itinerary for today. A shuttle will transport you to the academy and then onward to Marsellies for two days for the conference.”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“Thank you Commander.” Picard took the small PAAD from him. “And how will you be spending your leave?”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“I intend to visit the San Fransisco museum of ancient cultures Sir” </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“For the entire week?”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“Yes sir, I believe they have restored a new collection of early 21st century digital material which is quite fascinating.”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“Commander Data. Before you begin your study of ancient digital texts tomorrow, would you like to accompany me to The Academy and get a tour?”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">Data cocked his head with a slight smile. “ Why yes Captain, that would be most agreeable.”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">The Android left him to read his itinerary for the day. An unwelcome chore at t</span>
    <span class="s1">he Academy best dispensed with early. Admiral Superintendent Russell had been quite insistent that he brief him in person, saying he needed to discuss some of the student’s talents and weaknesses. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">Picard usually had no trouble forming his own opinion of new recruits and preferred not to be biased by too much information about them as individuals. At Seventeen years old, Picard, thought, none of us are truly fully formed anyway. These young people could become anything or anyone. It was only Star Fleet’s privilege to be able to facilitate that change. But he wasn’t going to question someone with the seniority and experience of Russell. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">In fact he preferred not to have anything to do with the ship’s Cadets unless he had to. He wasn’t good with children, including the newly or almost adult ones. This was usually Will Riker’s forte, but Picard had wanted him to take time off to take Dianna to see his Father in Calgary. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">His normal, brief welcoming speech and salute wasn’t going to cut it. He sighed deeply. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1"> ………………………………..</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“One of the most well respected Officers in Star Fleet. He caused some consternation among the ranks when he retired early from active duty and took an academic five years ago. Very soon he had peen promoted and was overseeing the whole Academy.”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">Data, telling Picard the he already knew, rattled off facts about the man they were about to meet as they strode across the main hall, a massive, open roofed structure of marble, bathed in sunlight and modeled after the School of Athens. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“Ah! Captain!” </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">Admiral Superintendent Russell stretched out his arms in welcome. “How wonderful to see you again after all these years!” </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">He was large man in his late 60s with a robust handshake and a booming voice. If academic life had mellowed him it didn’t show physically, he looked as strong and able for combat as he ever had. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“Indeed!” Picard shook his hand with enthusiasm. “Allow me to introduce Commander Data.”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“ AH! The Synthetic I’ve heard so much about! Pleased to meet you commander, I’ve organised a guided tour for you if you come with me.”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">Data was escorted away by a young woman who seemed to know her way around, while Picard walked with A.S. Russell up a flight of stairs to the promenade, the whole courtyard and garden was laid out below them. New Cadets, with their packed bags, milled around talking or playing Holo-games on the grass, or sitting quietly reading in corners while they waited for their transports to be announced.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">A red haired Vulcan girl walked along a white stone wall, carefully balancing a book on her head, while her friend laughed at her. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p2">Two young men practiced Mok'bara on the lawn, as highly focused as any Klingon warriors... At first... Then their concentration broke and they fell about laughing on the grass.</p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">A very young, dark skinned, short haired, boy was curled into himself under a tree, his head resting on his arms, and arms on his knees, as though he were dozing or day-dreaming. The boy briefly looked up, catching his eye. Something about his face made Picard feel a sudden frisson of sadness and tension, through he didn’t know why. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">Picard decided that later he would pay his old friend Bartleby, the Gardener, a visit. He fondly remembered the old man and his many hours in the grounds talking to him. His sage advice and comforting words to a sensitive, lonely and quiet boy who’d never been away from home before.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">Russel’s office was a glass box on the promenade and afforded him a perfect view from above. When he snapped his fingers upon entering the walls became opaque and the sound of the outside world was immediately muted. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“Captain please have a seat… I like to brief each Captain on the Cadets whom I’ve chosen for their placement, give them an idea of what they’re in for.” He smiled and raised an eyebrow. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“There are 650 this year, who made the cut. Most are model students, some excellent and some got through on good luck and cheek!” I’m assigning a mixed group of 20 to The Enterprise. That should be more than enough for you to handle for the next year.”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1"><span class="s1">Picard nodded, watching the holographic display as A.S. Russel pulled up student files giving Picard a brief overview of each. He recognised the names of several, they were the children of Star Fleet command, who were all but </span> <span class="s2">guaranteed</span> <span class="s3"> a place on The Enterprise at some point in their lives. </span></p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p3">
    <span class="s1">“This is Cassie Ryder.” He said, pulling up the 10th file. “You’ll remember her mother from the U.S.S. Eternity? She’s persuing Engineering, but I want her to try everything, she’ll need more variety than that, her talents would be wasted there...” </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p3"> </p>
  <p class="p3">
    <span class="s1">“Joren Coverfield, now this young man has a future in Command, and the pedigree too, as I’m sure you know from the name…”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p3"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">Picard was on the verge of disassociating from boredom at this point, this seemed like a somewhat pointless exercise. He wasn’t learning anything about these students he couldn’t surmise himself…. The next file made him sit forward slightly, he recognised the boy from under the tree. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">"This is Sal Vas. One of our less privileged recruits. Half human, his mother was a Bjoran refugee. She survived the atrocities and married a human aid worker. Sal won a scholarship, the boy has a very high IQ. Unfortunately he’s a year younger than the other recruits and struggles socially, he was almost suspended for fighting yesterday…”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Fighting?” Picard was surprised, he didn’t look they type. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1"> “Not the first time” replied Russell tersely. “He has a nasty habit of lying get out of trouble too…But, given his good academic record and unfortunate background I thought it best to go easy on the kid. It would be a shame if his placement were delayed.”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">Picard felt uneasy at the casual references to the student’s race’s and parentage. What difference could it possibly make? He was supposed to judge them on their performance as Cadets, nothing else.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">“Keep an eye on that one, he can be problematic.” Russell concluded, opening the next file. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">……………………………………………</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">“Hey Brains!”</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">Someone had yelled at him across the lawn. Sal ignored them, no one here had anything constructive to say to him. No one even knew his name. The nickname was a recent development due to his exam results. He was that weird kid who no one knew, who got the highest score of the decade.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p2">
    <span class="s1">They didn't know he had extra motivation.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">The sooner he could leave this planet the better. He closed his eyes against the all consuming pain in his body and imagined he was already on the U.S.S Enterprise. Flying millions of miles from Earth, safe among the stars.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">Not that anyone is ever <em>really</em> safe.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">He stared absently across the garden, too dizzy to focus on anything, just letting his eyes skim over it while he tried to black everything out. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">His whole body hurt like hell. His wrist and shoulder ached and he was pretty sure he had a few broken ribs. His back was still on fire, his head throbbed violently and there was worse pain, lower down, that he couldn’t allow himself to think about or he was sure he’d scream. And not stop screaming. Ever again. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">At least the bleeding had stopped… Eventually.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">He rested his head against the tree and felt his pulse in his ear. How was it possible he felt worse now that last night? He wondered how he could sit in plain sight and look like he didn’t have a mark on him… Well, besides his split lip and lightly blackened eye. Nothing too noticeable against his coffee coloured skin, he deliberately hadn’t been hurt anywhere it would show. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1"><em>Fuck.</em> He clenched his teeth against another wave of pain. <em>What if somethings broken inside me? What if this is how I die?</em></span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">He wanted his Dad… He couldn’t tell him, not ever, but he still wanted him.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <em> <span class="s1">I should’ve stayed with Dad. I should’ve never come here. </span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">Maybe he shouldn’t have gone behind <em>His</em> back and taken the recruitment exam a year early either… Or if he had, he should kept it quieter. The Man thought He’d have an extra year with him, and He’d been <em>so</em> upset when He saw that Sal had achieved such a high grade… When it was made apparent that if Sal didn’t get a placement this year... And a damn good one, people would want to know why… </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">Sal shuddered at the memory of the look on the mans face when he realised he wouldn't have Sal to play with anymore. And that he couldn't blackmail or threaten him into staying.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">He’d been murderously angry.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">He’d beaten him senseless and…</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <em> <span class="s1">And nothing… Nothing happened. </span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">He'd always been good at creating gaps in his memory where the horror had been. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"><span class="s1">Sal looked up... <em>He</em> was walking along the promenade towards his office, followed by another man. He recognised him as Jean Luc Picard. Hero of many a Cadet. Captain of the USS Enterprise. Sal briefly wondered what awful things the</span> <span class="s1">Captain was being told about him. Things to make him reject his placement.</span></p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to cry.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">If he couldn’t escape today… If he had to stay here… With <em>Him</em>…</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">No. He’d die… He’d rather die.</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">A bell rang through the common area. His blood froze, expecting to hear his name, to be called up to the office, to be told he was staying put...</span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <em> <span class="s1">"All Second Year Cadets to Transport."</span> </em>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1">He sighed with relief and stood slowly, wobbling slightly and grabbing the tree for support. Then he shouldered his heavy backpack, and walked stiffly out of the garden. Following the crowd of excited kids, ready for a new chapter. </span>
  </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p1"> </p>
  <p class="p2"> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is a true and demonstrable fact that within seconds someone’s life can change forever… For better or for worse. </p><p>Sometimes the change comes suddenly, a lottery win, a natural disaster, an accident or heart attack.</p><p>Sometimes it comes… That moment that will change your life forever... And you don’t even know it’s happened. Maybe not until years later. </p><p>For Sal Vas that moment was the tingle of the transporter as it beamed him onto the Enterprise. He didn’t know it then, but years later when he looked back, he would see it for what it was. </p><p>Because when he stepped onto the ship he was so deeply hurt and so unbelievably angry he couldn’t feel or think much at all. He just wanted to get away, get anywhere he could hide.</p><p> If he’d had the ability to analyse how he was feeling he’d have realised he was suicidal. He’d just have soon thrown himself out of an airlock as set foot off the transporter pad and into his new home. He wasn’t feeling  the elation or excitement of the other Cadets as they looked around in wonder at the legendary vessel. Nothing mattered but escape. </p><p>...............................................</p><p>They were greeted by a high ranking officer with a beard who gave them a welcome speech.</p><p> "We hope your time here will be valuable, instructive and, of course, fun."</p><p>Said with a wink and a smile. He heard someone whisper excitedly "That's William Riker!" the man, the legend, there he was. Sal used to be quite obsessed with the Enterprise and its crew. But now it was like all the curiosity and joy had been wrung right out of him. He couldn't muster enough enthusiasm to raise his eyes.</p><p>The Cadet's Barracks were small dorms of two or three bunks and an adjoining bathroom. Upon arrival they were each given a Com Badge, assigned their dorm numbers and told to unpack and get settled, and that a little later they would get a tour of the ship. </p><p>To his great relief Sal found himself in a three bunk dorm with two girls. He didn’t think he could handle sleeping near guys right now. </p><p>The bunks were three up, sunk into one wall like small caves. This offered a degree of privacy as well as being a space saver. individually lit and environmentally conditioned for individual needs of the varied species that used them. He lay curled on his side, half listening to the beeping above him as one of his roommates, a young Klingon girl, played with the heating and cooling controls loudly in the bunk above his. </p><p>A head appeared upside down over the side of his bunk. Her long curls hanging close to him.</p><p>“W’kluinnia Boj” She extended an arm down toward his face. “Most people who aren’t Klingon call me Linia.”</p><p>“He extended his uninjured arm awkwardly  “Sal Vas.”</p><p>“Who’s down below!?” She called down the wall to the lowest bunk.  </p><p>A small, heart shaped face darted out “Chikako Sato.” She waved up shyly. “My friends call me Sato… don’t  think I know you guys… We must’ve been in different classes.”</p><p>“Lets get a proper look at you two” Linia abruptly jumped down from her bunk, landing like a gymnast and leaning against the wall opposite them. She frowned.</p><p>“Wait a second…” Her eyes widened to stare at Sal. “You’re the kid who got the record on the R7 exam!” Sal cringed and curled further into himself as she whistled.</p><p>“Pretty impressive if I may say, you pissed of a lot of the more ambitious students, coming out of nowhere like that.”</p><p>“Yeah… Well… I’m just lucky I guess...” He muttered, avoiding eye contact. </p><p>“Yeah sure.” she said. “And I’m a Caregian Toothed Snail.”</p><p>Sato looked up at him. “ what happened to your face?” </p><p>“Oh… Nothing.” He said “I Just... Um...You should'e seen the other guy.” He smiled sheepishly.</p><p>Neither girl looked particularly convinced but they let it drop. As they chatted to each other he rested his throbbing head on the pillow. Sato was terribly excited to see the ship. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get up and walk around again. He closed his eyes letting their lilting voices distract him form the pain. He wasn’t alone, no one could come through that door and attack him. For the first time in months he finally began to relax... </p><p> ...When he opened his eyes he was alone. He must’ve dropped off, someone had covered him with a blanket and there was a handwritten note beside him.</p><p>
  <em> <strong>Tour started. Didn’t want to wake you. L&amp;S</strong> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wondered how long the tour was and when they’d be back. He hoped the rest of the afternoon in bed would fix his throbbing head and allow his… Other injuries... to heal enough for whatever was expected of him tomorrow. The last thing he needed was a doctor poking around. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He got up carefully and went to the bathroom. With some difficulty he removed his clothes, while trying to avoid the the mirror. The sonic shower wasn’t the same as a water one but he <em>did</em> feel cleaner, although no less nauseous and dizzy than before… <em>Concussion. </em>He knew it, and he knew it was dangerous to hide, but what choice did he have? If he went to Sickbay with a concussion they’d want to <em>examine</em> him… He shuddered at the thought. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He felt a little more like himself though when he retuned to the dorm and replicated himself a cup of soup which he drank at the small table by the window, looking out of the porthole at stars so numerous and deep it was like looking into a sea. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>I’m safe.</em> He told himself again. I<em>’m a million miles away from Him. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But some things aren’t separated by distance but by time. And his wounds were still fresh. It would be a long time before he could look out at those stars and not count the miles between him and his own private monster. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knew he should contact his Dad, let him know he’d settled in. But he knew any screen link would reveal his black eye and invite questions. Besides, he didn’t know if he could look his Father in the eye ever again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He went to the storage unit and rifled through his bag until he found a small cloth package, then climbed back into bed with groan. He opened the cloth and took out his Mother's Bajoran earring. She’d worn in always, in every memory he had of her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He placed it under his pillow as he always did. </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">He pretended to sleep when he heard the girls arrive back, hours later. They were whispering but also giggling excitedly about the ship and what tomorrow would bring. They were clearly getting on well.</span>He heard them get food from the replicator and sit at the table. Their whispers had taken on a muted and worried tone:</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Do you think he’s ok?”… “Does he look feverish to you?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I dunno… You think he could be contagious?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Poor kid… He looks so exhausted.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Shit... </em>However he felt tomorrow he’d have to put on a good show of being healthy for them. But despite his worries, real sleep found him at last and pulled him out into the firmament in his dreams. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>.........................</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>He floated among the stars…</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>A large hand grasped his arm and pulled him away… He reached up and out for the light as he was pulled downward into gravity so strong he couldn’t move, couldn’t stand… On his knees, held still by a man’s weight… A hand on his throat, vile lips at his ear…</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“You think you can escape? You think the Enterprise will save you? Are you stupid? I AM Starfleet! You’re in MY house now Boy!”</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He woke with a gasp, eyes wide, Russell’s hateful words echoing in his memory:</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“No one will believe you!”</em></span>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>…………….....</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>The Holodeck was green and golden with gently swaying trees, well managed grass to stand on in bare feet, dappled with sunlight and an ambient temperature that simulated a light breeze.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">First thing after breakfast and Lt. Commander Worf wasn’t pleased to be on babysitting duty. Still, it was his turn to contribute to training the Cadets, and self defence was one of the most important skills they would learn. </span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">He was given 8 youths to train for the morning, he started them on solo exercises. Some of them clearly had prior experience with </span> <span class="s1">Mok'bara. Most, however, had never even flexed a muscle or caught a ball to judge by their co-ordination. Tripping over their feet and unaware of where their arms were in relation to their bodies. </span></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Smooth motions!” He shouted, demonstrating the Flowing Water pose again. “YOU and <em>only</em> you are in control of your body!” He stamped his foot down several times to accentuate the rhythm. “TAKE control of your space, you OWN the space around you!”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He watched them for a moment, they <em>were</em> trying, brows furrowed, lower lips bitten, highly focused on the unfamiliar movements. He began to move among them, correcting postures as he went. Lifting an elbow here and straightening an arm there. He could feel their bodies tense as he approached them and some of them flinched when he touched them. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He knew they found him intimidating, he didn’t mind. It was one of his finest qualities, both as a Klingon and as Chief Of Security. But when he moved a young Bajoran’s shoulder into correct position and the boy let out a yelp and whirled around to face him, terror and rage written on his face, even Worf felt a little taken aback. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Easy boy!” He put up his hands placatingly. “Keep your shoulders straight.” He told him before moving on to the next student. </span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s1">As the class progressed he noticed the boy lagging, not though boredom or laziness but exhaustion.</span>Sweat dripped off him in rivulets and his breath came in gasps, he blinked constantly as though trying to stay awake. He supposed it could be that he didn’t have robust health or stamina. Or… it could be something else… He’d seen that look before, worn by injured warriors who were determined to keep fighting.</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He watched the Cadets suffer for a while longer, then called out “All right! Class Dismissed.” After a moments thought he added “Well done.” To give them incentive to return next week. Before ending the Dojo simulation. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">As they filed out he pointed at the boy, who was putting on his shoes. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Not you. You stay.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The look on the youngster’s face was a picture of trepidation. He looked around at the emptying room like the other students were a disappearing lifeboat. Worf tried, unsuccessfully, to look harmless.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Name?” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Sal Vas Sir.” He said in a quiet voice. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Whats this?” He indicated his own eye socket. The boy didn’t, or couldn’t reply right away, he stared at Worf for a long moment then cleared his throat nervously. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I….Um…I… Was…In a fight…Sir.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"><span class="s1">Worf Sighed. <em>No you weren’t. I saw your physical prowess just now, you’re no fighter. </em></span> <span class="s1">The boy reminded him so much of Alexander when he was too stubbornly proud to admit to a problem with his homework. </span></p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“The <em>truth</em> Cadet…. Now.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His tone had the desired effect. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I… Was….I…. Um….” The boy was struggling to get the words out, staring shamefacedly at his feet. “I got… Beaten up.” He choked slightly on the words, looking sick.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Is there bullying among the Cadets?” Asked Worf, suddenly more concerned, something was really wrong here. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“No sir.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“At the Academy?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“No sir.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Who beat you up?” He asked, trying to catch the youngster’s eye. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The boy wouldn’t reply, setting his jaw. Worf could see it was a lost cause to keep pushing him. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Do you have any other injuries?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“No Sir.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He <em>knew</em> that was a lie.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> “Report to Sickbay for a health check before the end of the day.” He told him, watching the boy’s entire body tense in response. “Thats an order Cadet.” </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He paused a moment, wondering what was the best course of action to resolve the problem. He knew that an official inquiry often made things worse in these situations. The Klingon in him thought that if it was a problem among his peers it was best resolved between them. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I want you back here at 1900 hours tomorrow, after your other duties. I’ll give you extra lessons in self defence, if anyones giving you trouble it won’t be for long.” He said with a grim smile. </span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">……………..</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Russell had pulled his shivering body upright and then pulled up his uniform pants roughly… He, grabbed his shoulders and slammed him into the wall, the back of his head bouncing and vibrating, his injured back and ribs screaming. The man put his face close to Sal's. He could feel his own heart hammering so hard it felt like it was going to explode in his chest. He turned his head away, squeezed his eyes shut, there was a sound...someone was crying... Was it him? He didn't know how he felt. He felt nothing... Gone. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“If anyone asks… You were in a fight…Understand?”</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>...................</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What had he done? </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>What did you do? You TOLD him… You told him you were beaten up…</em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He clenched his fists in impotent rage and panic and leaned against the wall of the passageway, trying to control his breathing.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>He knows about the beating… And he doesn’t know how bad…He doesn’t know the rest. He doesn’t know about the ugly words or disgusting breath or the humiliation or terror or the bleeding that wouldn’t stop… the violent movements that shouldn’t have been… That should have been gentle… Should have been with someone else…Anyone else. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He hadn’t been with anyone before… Ever. He didn’t even know if he liked men or women…Or both…Or neither… But right now the whole idea disgusted him and he never wanted to think of it again. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The Klingon was talking an interest in him. He didn’t want this… He wanted to fly under the radar and get out of this unscathed. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with an intimidating officer like Worf every day.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He knew that not every high ranking officer was a Russell… He knew that intellectually… But his skin crawled when he’d been touched all the same… And he wondered… If someone as respected within the institution as Russell could be a monster… Could anyone else <em>really </em>be trusted either?</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>This whole thing was huge mistake. I wish I’d stayed with Dad and become a Medic instead. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He wondered if he could get away with skipping the first half hour of his Engineering Experience and hide out somewhere to avoid the Sickbay visit. Worf didn’t seem like the type to check that kind of thing…So he could show up at Engineering late saying he’d been getting a checkup if anyone asked… He’d be screwed if anyone tried to verify but would they even bother if he acted nonchalant? </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He knew he should go to Sickbay. He probably<em> needed</em> to. His head felt a little better today, but he had developed what he though might be a mild fever and he was still hurting with a dull throb throughout his body, especially his ribs and spine.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">...But if he did it would be over, they’d know, and they’d make him tell… They’d ask <em>who</em>, and for how long and…Then it would be over for him… For every dream he ever had for his future…And his Father would be so upset…. And no one would believe him…</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <em> <span class="s1">What future? Said a small, spiteful voice in his head. Whats the point now?</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He quietly made his way back to the barracks and lay down on his bed until he thought the right amount of time had passed. The Mok'bara instruction had sapped what little physical energy he had, his whole being was crying out for sleep. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">10 Forward, the Ship's recreation facility was, apparently, going to be buzzing with activity later. He’d promised the girls he’d meet them there after their assignments this evening. He couldn't skip it without making them suspicious. But he was so, so not in t</span>
  <span class="s1">he mood.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> He liked his roommates though. Under other circumstances he'd be having the time of his life...He might even be flirting. But now... </span>
</p><p class="p2">He just wanted to sleep...</p><p class="p2">.....................</p><p class="p2">When he opened his eyes it took him a moment to realise where he was, he jumped in shock and hit his Com Badge " Computer... What time is it?"</p><p class="p2">
  <strong> <em>"The time is 1900 hours."</em> </strong>
</p><p class="p2">He groaned. That was a whole days training lost. He'd slept right through his first day and no doubt people would want to know why. <em>Fuck! </em>He hoped and prayed that , it being his first day, no one would miss him.</p><p class="p2">Well... If nothing else he could still make it to 10 Forward and avoid upsetting Sato and Linia. He slowly got up, his feet felt like lead.</p><p class="p2">......................</p><p class="p2">The atmosphere was indeed buzzing at 10 Forward. Crew members of every rank and type were in attendance. </p><p class="p2">An Axanaxan lounge singer crooned in the corner. </p><p class="p2"> Will Riker and Deanna Troy were enjoying their first evening back on the ship. With Picard still in Marseilles, Riker was Acting Captain.  Not a role he relished even in Port...But needs must. </p><p class="p2">Unwinding was essential though and there was no better place. </p><p class="p2">The evening had begun in a relaxing enough fashion. Dinner and music, even a little dancing, as they were both in a romantic mood after their short vacation. They were  sipping wine and kicking back when Troy went suddenly pale and dropped her glass.</p><p>"Oh!" She put a hand to her heart. An unreadable expression on her face.</p><p>"Deanna what's wrong?" Will asked, full of concern, reaching out to take her hand.</p><p>Her eyes filled with tears. She frowned in confusion, looking around the crowded room.  "I...I'm not sure Will... I... I don't think it's me!"</p><p>He gently rubbed her hand between his. "What are you picking up?"</p><p>"It's awful!" She whispered. "A combination of pain and rage and fear and shame and... Oh Will! Over all of it a... Horrible sensation of physical distress!"</p><p>She desperately searched the room for whoever was suffering.</p><p>Riker scanned the room with his eyes. Everyone looked happy enough. There were the usual suspects, card playing groups that met here every night, the old storytellers at the bar enjoying a laugh with Guinan, a table of new Cadets unwinding after a full day and those who came for the music... He couldn't see anyone in the crowded room who fit the description.</p><p>It didn't happen all that often and was never deliberate, but it wasn't unheard of for Troy to pick up on private thoughts and feelings of a few people at once in a crowd. This quickly became overwhelming and the only thing was to get her out of the room. Which he suggested and, after another psychic sweep of the crowd, she agreed to.</p><p>Riker held her close that night, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep.</p><p>"It's just horrible." She whispered into the dark room. "Someone needs my help and I can't find them."</p><p>"Are you sure it was one person and not the whole room?" He asked gently. </p><p>"I... It was all encompassing but... Will I think it was focused around an individual." </p><p>"Then we'll do our best to find them." He murmured, and kissed the top of her head. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Falsehood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Klingons don’t get hangovers.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You <em>sure</em> you weren’t drinking Synthahol?” </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“No, and frankly I don’t feel any difference.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re lucky… I feel<em> terrible</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m guessing we both know someone who feels worse.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">As the room swam into focus Sal squinted out from under his nest of blankets at Lania and Sato, </span> <span class="s2">who stood beside his bunk peering in at him. Sato looked a little worse for wear. </span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">You remember last night Sal?” Said Linia with a slight smirk. “I saw you sipping something but I didn’t realise you drank enough to look this bad.”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">He groaned. He felt like garbage, but it wasn’t a hangover. He had stuck to Synthahol the previous night. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“What time is it?” He whispered. His mouth tasted disgusting. </span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">“It’s 0630…”</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s1">It was launch day. They were leaving Earth’s orbit in a few hours and would be starting their journey into the unknown. He dragged himself upright and swung his legs out of the bunk, dropping to the carpet. His knees went to jelly beneath him and he would’ve collapsed if he hadn’t caught himself on the railing.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“M’ Gonna throw up.” He managed to get out. Before staggering to the bathroom,The pain in his broken ribs as he vomited into the sink was indescribable. He gasped for breath and whimpered. He was shocked at his own weakness. </span>
</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“<span class="s2">Qu'vatlh</span></span> <span class="s2"> Sal! </span> <span class="s1">How much did you drink?” </span></p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He turned to see Linia in the doorway looking at him with a mixture of pity and disgust.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He had to pull himself together <em>now </em>or they’d suspect something. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m ok… Just… Just not used to partying… Th…Thats all.” He supported himself, pushing his arms down on the edges of the sink. “I’m fine… Really… I’m fine.” He said, to himself more than her. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He looked into the mirror and saw how utterly stupid that statement was. His skin was ashen and beaded with sweat, he had dark rings under his eyes and the bruises were still visible. He looked like shit. </span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and spoke to her reflection “Thanks Linia… I’ll take a shower and get going… Be late otherwise.” He turned on the water and washed out the sink. Then brushed past her to get his uniform.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he emerged from the bathroom he looked and felt more normal. But the two girls were clearly concerned about something. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sal… There was a call out on your Com Badge while you were showering… You’re wanted in Commander Riker’s office… Right away.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shit”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What did you do?” asked Sato. “This is a huge deal.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I… I don’t know! Maybe... I was late to my duties yesterday?" He lied… “Got lost.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well… I’m sure He'll understand... Seems like a weird reason to call you in though.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">……………</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Under any other circumstances he’d have been excited to meet one of the Federation's greatest adventurers. Delighted even. But his heart sank into his boots as he walked to Acting Captain Rikers office. Going to the offices of high ranking Starfleet officials had only ever resulted in pain for him. </span>
</p><p class="p2">If he could <em>just </em>manage not to be kicked off the ship for a few more hours they’d be out of transporter range of Earth. And once they hit warp there would be no going back, at least not easily. </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He touched the com button on the door of the office. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come!” called a voice from within. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He entered the room and stood to attention before the desk. Riker was sitting, reading a PADD. He began to speak, without looking up. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cadet Vas?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes Sir?” Sal replied feeling almost as intimidated as he had when he met Lt. Commanter Worf.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Riker continued. “So here I am, running a Starship about to leave the Planet for who knows how long, logistics are impossible as I’m sure you can imagine... Freight, crew, medical supplies and everything else… So imagine my surprise Cadet… Just <em>imagine </em>when I get a message from Mr Barkley of Engineering saying that one of the listed Cadets hadn’t arrived on the ship!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looked up at Sal, his face unreadable. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where, wondered Mr. Barkely, was Cadet Sal Vas? Because the <em>only</em> reason he could think of for a Starfleet Cadet to miss his first day of training, was if he’d missed his transport. Of course… Why on earth would a Cadet…” He peered at the PADD “...Study his ass off, ace the entry exam, arrive on the ship the night before with all his peers…Then <em>miss his first day of training </em>despite being on board? And what is more…” He was visibly irate now and Sal cringed. "…Why would he waste my valuable time with this issue when it’s the very <em>last</em> thing I need on my plate right now?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sal was frozen to the spot, his heart hammering in his chest. His mind racing for a reply. <em>Come up with a good excuse now or you’re back Planetside with The Pervert by the end of the day. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well?” Riker asked “ Do you have an explanation for this mystery?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sal opened his mouth but wasn’t able to make a sound come out. Everything round him slowed down, suddenly and his extremities felt numb. Riker took a long look at him and the expression on his face softened. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“At Ease Cadet.” He said, indicating the chair before his desk. “Sit down before you fall down for God’s sake... I won’t bite you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sat in the chair, gripping the arm rests. He had absolutely no explanation other than the truth, and because the whole truth wasn’t and option, he settled on a half one. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sir I… I went to Commander Worf’s Martial Arts training and… Then I went to change before my shift in Engineering… I… I thought I was just resting my eyes but I fell asleep… And when I woke up the day was over… I… I didn’t know what to do...So I didn’t say anything… I’m sorry Sir."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Riker considered this silently for a moment. His eyes piercing right through Sal. <em>Please believe me! Don’t send me back!</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why were you so tired?” He asked after a while. This caught Sal off guard somewhat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sir… I’ve been studying so hard for exams… I haven’t been sleeping… Then there was a big celebration, night before last at the Academy.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This, once again, was a half truth. There had been celebrating but he’d been nowhere near it… He’d been curled up in the shower, in shock, trying not to bleed all over the dorm bathroom. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it seemed to have the desired effect. Riker sighed. “Well… We were all young once Cadet, even me, believe it of not. Don’t waste my time with trivialities again.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sal wilted with relief. <em>Thank The Prophets!</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you Sir. I won’t.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dismissed.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes sir.” He got up to leave, as he reached the doorway Riker spoke again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And Don’t study so damn hard… You look exhausted.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes Sir.” He smiled as he left the room. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">………………….</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His Shift in Engineering went by in a bit of a haze, it wasn’t that he wasn’t interested, he was, and Mr Barkley was a good instructor, but the sick feeling was starting to take its toll. He knew he had a fever and his head still hurt, although not as much as it had... He still hurt badly in other places too... As much as he tried not to think about it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Every time his mind wandered he was back there, in A.S. Russles’ quarters… Terrified for his life. </span>
</p><p class="p2"><em>Just a few more hours and we’ll be in warp, </em>he reminded himself. <em>Light years away from Earth.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Never to return. </em> </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">He was standing on the walkway. Working on replacing a micropanel with a Cadet around his age named Danny Meaco. Danny was friendly and talkative, with a head of curly red hair that bounced whenever he moved, which was constantly, he reminded Sal of t</span>he Bajoran tree sprites his Mom used to tell him stories about.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I saw The Android… Lt. Commander Data earlier! I didn’t have the guts to introduce myself of course... Typical!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I'm sure you'll get your chance." Sal said "We'll be here all year."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Hey Sal!" He looked up to see Sato rushing down the walkway. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How did it go with Riker?” She whispered hurriedly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was fine.” He whispered back. “Some of my paperwork wasn’t correct. No big deal.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh thank God! I thought you were a gonner…. Hows the hangover?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Much better thanks.” He smiled at her, it was genuine this time, it was sweet of her to care.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Lets compare notes later… Don't forget to stay hydrated." She quipped before heading away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">Danny made a low, astonished sound "Woah!.. Who was<em> that?</em>"</p><p class="p1">"That was my roommate." He replied, trying not to blush. </p><p class="p1">"You lucky bastard!" Danny exclaimed. "Also... What? Riker? Tell me more. What's he like? Is he terrifying in person? Please tell me he's as amazing as I think he is."</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He smiled at Danny's chattering as they worked. But he was miles away when someone tapped his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whoa! It’s ok kid!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">It was Mr. Barkley who was managing work detail for </span> <span class="s2">Lt. Commander</span> <span class="s1"> La Forge. </span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Time to knock off for a while boys. Captain Picard is back onboard. We’re about to go into Warp and want you two to see the core at work.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They followed Barkley into the Warp Core containment area. All the Engineering crew were there either working or watching as the antimatter began to spin, the blue and green lights looked like a giant, fluid DNA helix.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s beautiful.” He said softly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Barkley looked over to him grinning. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is isn’t it? I never get tired of this.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then there was a lurching sensation in his stomach like being in a suddenly dropping elevator. </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">"We've gone into Warp!" Cried Danny in excitement. </span> <span class="s1">“Say goodbye to Earth dude!” </span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everyone clapped...  Sal breathed a deep sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">.....................</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the empty Holodeck, Worf was tapping his foot impatiently.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Normally this wouldn’t be good news for the tardy Cadet, but as it was launch day and the Captain was finally back on board, he was in good mood. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the boy arrived he looked like death. There was no other way of putting it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So sorry I’m late sir!” He gasped, standing to attention, or trying to. “I…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Overindulged last night Cadet?” Worf finished for him. Assuming he’d had been one of the many revellers at 10 Forward.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Y… Yes sir… Sorry sir.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cadet Vas, in your time here you will learn discipline and the value of planning ahead!” He said sharply, though he was inwardly amused and a little shocked at the boys’ open admission to being hungover. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Now!” He continued, making the youngster jump. “We shall gather our warrior energy and practice the art of Blocking… Which you have clearly<em> not </em>been doing.” He indicated the black eye, which somehow looked darker now than yesterday. He took a few steps towards the boy and watched him shrink away slightly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want you to attack me.” He said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A...Attack you sir?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Indeed, Cadet, don’t make me ask twice. I want you to attack me as though we were fighting.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This was always interesting, it was a good gage of personality and confidence. You could always tell a cocky student from an insecure one by their initial attempt at attack. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stood, looking downward, squirming, unable to do what was asked. Worf took a step closer, getting into his personal space. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Imagine<em> I’m</em> the person who gave you that black eye and split lip.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy stood there for a long time. Worf was about to berate him for disobediance when he tightened his jaw, took a step forward and swung a hard right hook at Worf’s face. It wasn’t competent or skilled, but it was surprisingly passionate. There was genuine anger in the boy’s eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Worf easily blocked the blow with his left forearm, knocking the fist away. The boy made a shocked sound and took several steps back. Worf frowned, wondering if he’d hurt him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That is a forearm block, very simple… But you need to be in the right stance. This is the Pose Of Readiness. If you sense an attack you must always be ready to block with your legs balanced, and arms up.” He demonstrated and nodded his approval when the boy copied him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Now you try it.” </span> <span class="s1">Worf went in quickly with an open palmed slap to the boy’s head rather than a punch. The point was to catch the Cadet off guard and allow his instincts to kick in, but to his surprise he didn’t attempt to block, Instead he reflexively curled in on himself, protecting his stomach and pelvis with both arms and turning away with a strangled cry.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Several things happened then. Worf’s hand did make contact with his head. Not terribly hard but enough to catch him off balance and knock him against the wall…Cadet Vas then fell to the floor on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Worf knew the blow itself hadn’t knocked him down. Something else was going on... He’d reacted as though Worf had aimed a blow at his solar plexus or lower. Not a sparring move. It didn't look like it had been a misinterpretation of Worfs body language or motive either… This <em>was</em> an instinctive reaction, he realised. Not to deflect a punch, but to protect an injured body…</span>
</p><p class="p2">He <em>knew</em> it had been more than schoolyard fighting. There was something seriously wrong. He’d felt the heat coming off the boy when his hand made contact with his head too. He was in no state to be exercising let alone sparring. <span class="s1">He crouched down and helped him sit against the wall. The boy hissed in pain when Worf moved him.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Easy Son… Sit back…” He kept his voice low. Cadet Vas sat with his knees bent, eyes shut.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where does it hurt?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…” He looked up with a dreamy expression as though he wasn’t quite awake. “I… I’m fine.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are NOT fine Cadet! You’re injured, and you have a fever. It’s obvious. Now tell me or I’ll call Sickbay and get your file.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy's eyes widened at that. “Um… My… My ribs… They said I had bruised ribs.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me see.” He said, attempting to roll up his uniform top. </span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">At the motion he cringed into the wall, curling his knees in to protect himself "</span> <span class="s1">NO! PLEASE!” The he shouted… Pushing Worf’s hands away and trying to stand up. He was terrified, Worf realised. What had happened to him? </span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cadet Vas!” He said firmly, raising his hands so he could see them. “Look at me!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boys terrified eyes settled on him. He was fighting tears. Whether from the fever or the fear, his body was shivering to the point that his teeth were chattering. <em>Is he in Shock?</em> Wondered Worf. <em>It looks like shock. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">“I will not hurt you.”</p><p class="p1">The boy didn't appear to hear him. </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Breathe… I’m not going to touch you, I’ll just look... All Right? </span>Worf took the silence as consent and lifted the edge of his top. Pulling it higher inch by inch, checking the boys face for panic each time.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The bruising was deep and expanded across his stomach and chest as far as Worf could see, and below his waistband. Some ribs were clearly broken and horribly missaligned. He gently pushed the boy forward and looked at his back. The same pattern of bruising extended around his torso, there was a clear mark of fingers at his neck and a dark patch on his spine that could only have been from a savage kick…These were not injuries that Sickbay would have allowed him to walk away with. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Does it hurt when you breathe?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He nodded slowly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You might have pneumonia. A side effect of crushed ribs... You didn’t go to sickbay yesterday did you?” He said, not requiring an answer, and not getting one. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was worried about the implication of these injuries. This damage wasn’t done by an adolescent Cadet, he was sure of it. It was either someone much larger than Vas... Or more than one person. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who was it?” He asked, trying to keep the rage out of his voice. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy's eyes met his. He wasn’t as frightened now. He just looked tired. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t tell you.” He said, honesty in his face. “I really can’t. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Were you threatened?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Worf thought for a moment, accepting the boy's fear of reprisal. “Very Well.” He said. “I wont ask you for names… But this time I’m accompanying you to Sickbay and you’re getting a full health check.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Cadet Vas nodded slowly. The fact that there was no argument told Worf how serious this was. He touched his Com badge. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Worf to O'Brien…Two to Sickbay. Urgent!" He put an arm around the shaking shoulders as they were teleported out of the room. </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Discovered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Doctor!” </p><p>Sal barely had time to register the tingle of the transporter before they were in Sickbay. A woman with long red hair was leaning over him. Scanning him with a Tricorder. He shut his eyes against a wave of dizziness.</p><p>“He’s been assaulted.” Worf told her, tightening his arm around Sal’s shoulder slightly. Sal could barely follow the conversation, sounds and impressions pummelled him.</p><p>“…Get him on the biobed” The lights of a sensor cluster were above him as suddenly he was lifted and laid down again. He felt hands pushing his shoulders back, he tried to sit up, struggling weakly. He opened his eyes and was sure it was Russell, just for a moment, holding him down.</p><p>“ No… Please…Don’t!” he cried out, pushing against the hands<em>. "Cry all you like… It won’t change anything. You’re mine now."</em></p><p>“…Delirious.” Said a voice, cutting into his awareness through the fear. “…Look… Me...”</p><p>He felt hands either side of his face and tried to turn away from them... Twisting in someones grasp…Someone cried out… Someone was crying… Then, like a light in the fog he heard a deep voice chanting…</p><p>"Tre'nu'tol'a rem... La'por i'lanu kos... I'nar tan'a'tali nor...."</p><p>Bajoran words…Words that his mother used to say with him every night when he was young… Words of protection… He opened his eyes to see Commander Worf’s face looking down at him, steadily reciting the prayer to the Prophets.</p><p>
  <em>All is safe, you will be safe, the spirits are watching over you. You are greatly protected.</em>
</p><p>He stared, disconcerted for a moment by the sight of a Klingon speaking his mother tongue. The logical part of his brain began to wake up a little, of course he was safe, the threat was light years away, back on Earth. He stopped struggling.</p><p>“Thats it…” Murmured the Commander… “ Let the Doctor help you.” He allowed Worf to hold the sides of his head, large hands cupped over his ears. It helped block out the sounds of the sensors and made him feel safer.</p><p>The doctor was reading the screens on the body scanner that hovered above the entire length of him. She pulled a different sensor array over, one with a horrible looking arm on it, and tapped her badge.</p><p>“Sandy I need you and the other auxiliary staff in Sickbay, Urgently!”</p><p>She turned her eyes to him then, he saw fear in them. She put something to the side of his neck and he flinched away, but Worf gently moved his head and held it as she administered the Hypospray.</p><p>“Whats his name?” She asked Worf.</p><p>“Sal Vas.”</p><p>“Vas…It’s all going to be ok…” She told him “We’ve got you…”</p><p>He thought, through his fog of panic and pain, that she’d made the error people sometimes make when they met him. Assuming he used Bajoran naming order… But he’d been raised on Earth by Humans, he didn’t do that…</p><p>And then he stopped thinking… The last thing he remembered was the Doctor talking to Worf:</p><p>“...If someone on the ship did this to him… We have a real problem.”</p><p>“Yes Doctor.” Worf replied.</p><p>He felt the hands leave his head and then… White.</p><p>…………..</p><p class="p2"><span class="s1">“ Welcome home Captian.” Said </span> <span class="s2"> Ensign<span class="s3"> Ogawa</span></span> <span class="s4"> as he took his seat.</span></p><p class="p4"><span class="s3">“Thank you </span> <span class="s5">Ensign, are we prepared for departure?”</span></p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s5">“ We are indeed sir!” She grinned</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s5">“Engage."</span>
</p><p class="p4">
  <span class="s5">........…...........</span>
</p><p class="p7">Despite the joys of seeing La Barre again, Picard couldn’t have been happier to see The Enterprise once more.</p><p class="p7">“How was Alaska Will?” He asked as The commander replacated himself a coffee and sat down opposite him in the Ready Room.</p><p class="p7">“Well… You know how it is with Dad… But things are slowly improving…His new wife is lovely, she did her best to make us feel welcome.”</p><p class="p7">“Good. Did Dianna enjoy herself or was the tension too palpable?”</p><p class="p7">“She did actually, although it was a short stay so that helped... but…” Riker paused, as though unsure if he ought to continue.</p><p class="p7">“But what Will?” Picard frowned, “Is something wrong?”</p><p class="p7">“Well… Honestly… Ever since we got back, her empathy has been… Overstimulated… By someone on board.”</p><p class="p7">“Is she all right?” Asked Picard, concerned. “Is there any way we can find out who?”</p><p class="p7">“She couldn’t pinpoint it but It happened in a crowd at 10 Forward. She says it been coming in waves ever since, when it happens she has to go and lie down.”</p><p class="p7">“What kind of energy is she feeling?”</p><p class="p7">“Negative, very negative, someone on board is suffering but there’sinterference. She says its probably not deliberate but they’re good at repression and don’t want anyone to know.”</p><p class="p7">Picard considered the problem for a moment. Sipping his tea.“I wonder if we could look at who was at 10 forward that night.”</p><p class="p7">“The thought had occurred to me Captain, but as I said, it was crowded… And there are plenty of new faces around.”</p><p class="p7">“Well I’ll consider her on sick leave until this situation is rectified.”</p><p class="p7">There was beep at the door.</p><p class="p7">“Come.”</p><p class="p7">Worf stepped in, he looked agitated.</p><p class="p7">“Captain… Comander Riker…. I have to discuss a… Delicate matter with you.”</p><p class="p7">……………………..</p><p class="p7">Sitting in Dr. Crusher’s office he was starting to understand what may have damaged his counsellors equilibrium.</p><p class="p7">Although Worf hadn’t given them much detail, he understood that one of their Cadets was lying in an induced coma in the sickbay recovery room. The Doctor sat at her desk with her head in her hands. She looked more devastated than he’d ever seen her.</p><p class="p7">Along side them sat Riker, Troy and Worf.He didn’t have to be Betazoid to feel the agitation in the room. </p><p class="p7">“Beverly… “ He said softly. You’re going to have to tell us what’s going on here.”</p><p class="p7">She looked up and swallowed thickly, taking a sip of water from a glass on the desk. “I suppose I’ll start with the bare facts.” She sighed. "At 8020 I received an incoming transport signal and Worf arrived with Cadet Sal Vas, who was disoriented and in pain.”</p><p class="p1">A voice spoke in Picard's memory.<em> Keep an eye on that one… Probematic</em>.</p><p class="p7">“He wasn’t lucid and appeared to think we were attacking him… Worf…” She looked up at Worf “what did you say to him?” </p><p class="p7">“Its a Bajoran prayer." He said. "I picked up a little of it over the years... I assumed."</p><p class="p7">“Well whatever it was it worked and I could sedate him and scan him…" She shook her head "I don't know where to start with these injuries. If you hadn’t bought him in when you did there's no question, he’wouldnt have survived.”</p><p class="p7">“I should have acted sooner.” Worf said, clearly reproaching himself. “I sensed something wrong yesterday. I ordered him to go for a health check but clearly… He didnt…”</p><p class="p7">“Well… I can't say I blame him.” She said sadly. "He was clearly keeping someone else's secret. All his injuries were several days old.”</p><p class="p7">“Dr, Crusher…” Riker asked Apprehensively. “What happened to him?</p><p class="p7">“Starting at the top?” Her jaw tensed as she read the PADD “A cracked skull, concussion, obviously…Badly broken ribs…Internal bleeding... Sepsis...A sprained wrist...” As she read, Picard carefully observed Troy. Her lower lip trembled, and Will put and arm around her.</p><p class="p7">“And…" Beverly paused for a moment and blinked her eyes. She took a deep breath </p><p class="p7">"...Injuries conducive to severe aggravated sexual assault, probably repeated…There were scars and healed injuries… It could have been going on for a while.”</p><p class="p7">Picard's heart skipped a beat at that, This was so much worse than he could have imagined. He was finding it hard to maintain his composure. He heard Worf growl softly beside him.</p><p class="p7">Her hand shook as she put the PADD down, and he reached over and put his hand over hers.She closed her eyes and squeezed it.</p><p class="p7">“We’ve done everything we can surgically, and now we wait for him to heal enough to wake him up.” She was on the verge of tears. In no small part, he was sure, due to being a parent. Wesley was only a few years older than this boy.</p><p class="p7">“Will he be all right?” Asked Picard.</p><p class="p7">“He’s stable now, his body will heal fine, with enough rest. But the psychological effects? Who knows.”</p><p class="p7">Riker looked horrified. “He… I called him to my office this morning… He hadn’t shown up forwork detail yesterday. I reprimanded him…. He… He was clearly unwell and… He was absolutely terrified of me… I should have…”</p><p class="p7">“There were things we all could have done differently.” Troy cut him off. She spoke softly and deliberately “I could have searched harder last night in 10 Forward too… But we didn’t. Now we have to set the guilt aside and deal with what’s in front of us…Someone has committed a crime.”</p><p class="p7">“Well said Councellor.” Picard told her. Turning to the Doctor “Did this happen while he was on board The Enterprise?”</p><p class="p7">She shook her head. “Assuming he arrived with the rest of them, no. The bones were starting to knit… I would guess two to three days ago.”</p><p class="p7">“So it happened on Earth? At the Academy?”</p><p class="p7">“I would assume so.”</p><p class="p7">Riker was vibrating with rage. “If this is the kind of thing Cadets are getting away with at the Academy these days then its not the institution I remember.”</p><p class="p7">“I doubt it.” Worf intoned. “He told me he was afraid, that he’d been threatened.”</p><p class="p7">Riker's eyes widened. “Could whoever attacked him have come onboard with him as a recruit?” He asked, automatically thinking of the safety of the crew.</p><p class="p7">“Would he have been that intimidated by a fellow student? It had to be someone who held something over him.” Worf replied.</p><p class="p7">“You’re right.” Dr. Crusher replied, looking haunted. “He had life threatening injuries and had several chances to get help. I don’t care how ashamed he was, he’d have been in enough pain to have known he needed to tell an authority figure.”</p><p class="p7">“Unless…” Murmured Troy. “ He didn’t trust authority figures... Unless someone in authority frightened him worse than his injuries did.”</p><p class="p7">“Someone who outranks him.” Picard finished. Feeling ill at the thought of anyone in Starfleet abusing their authority in such and evil way. “It has to be, its the only thing that makes sense.”</p><p class="p7">Riker was pale as a ghost, he looked at Picard with genuine helplessness in his eyes. “Whats the next step?”</p><p class="p7">“We need to tell his father.” Dr. Crusher said “He’s still a minor.”</p><p class="p7">“Then what? A tribunal?” Asked Worf.</p><p class="p7">“Have we ruled his father or another family member out as the abuser?” Riker asked. “It could have happened on a visit home.”</p><p class="p7">“According to his file his father is a Federation EMT and is currently doing aid work on Derna.” The Doctor replied. “His mother died when he was Ten and, by the looks of things he doesn’t have much close family on Earth.”</p><p class="p7">“All the easier for a predator to single him out.” Replied Riker darkly. "God Damnit! Starfleet have a duty of care! They should've been on top of this! It needs to be reported!"</p><p class="p7">Picard suppressed a shudder and cleared his throat. The others all looked at him, <em>to him</em>, for guidance.</p><p class="p7">“Imagine for a moment…” He said “That any of you had been through what this boy has been through. The sheer horror of it. That you had been beaten, and raped, maybe more than once, maybe systematically, maybe for <em>months</em>… Imagine losing all control of your life and bodily autonomy... Then being forcibly sedated and restrained in Sickbay... Then… You wake up, to find that without your knowledge your family and friends all had been informed, and that the Academy has been contacted, and now your abuser, who may have threatened your life or your family, probably knows that you exposed them…”</p><p class="p7">They sat in silence for a long moment. </p><p class="p7">“Captain are you suggesting that we keep this to ourselves? Don't we have a legal mandate to report incidents like this.” Riker said.</p><p class="p7">“I’m suggesting that we wait for him to regain conciseness and talk to him.” Picard replied.</p><p class="p7">“I would agree with that suggestion Captain.” Said Troy. “We have to get his side of the story or we could do more damage.”</p><p class="p7">“I can forsee a problem with that Captain.” Worf cut in. “There will be communication between you and Starfleet in the coming days, they'll be checking on the Cadets progress, and probably for Federation business… The Cadets will be talking to their families too, and they’ll all know soon enough that one of their own is in a coma… Can you omit such a serious incident from your discourse without creating problems? It's against every regulation Sir.”</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p8"><span class="s7">“Then we’ll have to run interference somehow… I’m sure you and <span class="s8">Lieutenant</span></span> <span class="s6"> La Forge can think of some way to keep our communications offline for a while.” He was careful to word it in such a way that he wasn’t ordering an illegal action, but he knew that if it came to light it wouldn’t look good.</span></p><p class="p7">“I’m sure we can Sir.” Worf replied. “I shall discuss it with him.”</p><p class="p7">“And in the interval between now and the boy waking up… I think we can all do some of our own damage control. Keep the other Cadets from knowing too much, the last thing he'll need are rumors going aorund. We'll need to tactfully question them about life at the Academy too, he may not be the only victim. Councillor Troy, are you up to the task?"</p><p class="p7">"Yes Captain, I'll start interviews tomorrow morning."</p><p class="p7">.............................</p><p class="p7">Later, in his quarters, he sat at his desk long into the night, staring at the boys file, the same phrases kept popping up.</p><p class="p7">
  <em>Behavioural problems... Fighting.... Falsehoods.... Problematic behaviour.. Disobedience.. Emotional outburst...</em>
</p><p class="p7">Demerit after demerit. He was on the verge of suspension when he graduated. </p><p class="p7">How had no one at the Academy seen the boy's troubled personality as a potential cry for help? How had they not investaged further? How could  Starfleet, the great insitution he'd given his life to, allow this right under their nose? Part of him wanted to contact them and shake them for answers.</p><p class="p7">Eventually, unable to sleep, he went to the trunk beside his bed and dug out his antique paper copy of The Three Musketeers. Instead of going to bed he went to Sickbay. </p><p class="p7">The boy lay under a sensor shell, surrounded by dim blue light, the silent sensors flashing periodically. He was unnaturally still, his blood starved skin had a grey tinge. His  breath came rhythmically, almost mechanically. </p><p class="p7">Dr. Crusher slept in the chair beside his bed. Her head on her arm. Picard gently woke her. She started at his touch then sighed with relief.</p><p class="p7">"Beverly... Go to bed." He whispered. "I'll stay with him."</p><p class="p7">She nodded, thankfully, and left for her office, she had a portable bed in there for Sickbay emergencies. He put the book on the side table and took her place. Watching the lights blink in the quiet room and listening to the ventilated breathing of his young charge. </p><p class="p7"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Promise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The first thing he was aware of after the anaesthetic neutraliser touched his throat was the sound of soft beeping and a strange numbness. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“There you are… Open your eyes for me Honey.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He looked up into soft grey eyes. The Doctor was leaning over him, she touched the side of his face gently. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’ve administered a spinal block, you won’t feel anything below the neck for a while, just until you start to heal.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Oh God! They Know!” </em>The enormity of what had happened hit him like a sledgehammer. T<em>hey know and they’re going to tell…</em></span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">In his confused state he was sure, somehow, that he was in trouble or would be very soon. He looked around the room in panic. In the doorway was another woman, with long dark hair. She spoke softly in an accent he couldn’t place. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t be scared, we’re taking good care of you.” She said.The Doctor placed an oxygen mask over his mouth. “Just breathe, slowly…There… In…And out…”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He did his best to copy her exaggeratedly slow inhalations but anxiety was eating a hole in his chest. The other woman approached his bed and put a hand on his forehead. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t tell…Please.” He whispered. Beginning to hyperventilate. His voice sounded broken and choked.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t tell?” She leaned in to hear.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Pleasedonttellpleasedontsendmeback!” He gasped. “ Don’t… Send… Me… Back!” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Where?” She said quietly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“E…Earth!” He stammered staring about wildly as though something might leap out at him from the shadows. He felt lightheaded, the doctor must have given him something.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’re staying right here… Please don’t be scared… You’re perfectly safe… Just breathe… Just… Breathe. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He drifted away. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">………………………..</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“So as you can see we have scrambled the sensors in a way that is indistinguishable from ion cloud activity.” Geordi La Forge told Riker and Picard, indicating the holographic panel above the Captain’s desk. “We can keep it up indefinitely, but the average ion cloud would only affect sensors for three or four days maximum.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Riker sighed, he and Picard glanced at one another meaningfully. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Geordi cleared his throat. “Permission to speak freely Captain?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Go on.” Picard said. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“This is illegal… It could come back and bite us… Don’t get me wrong I’m sure you have perfectly valid reasons for needing to scramble communications for a few days but I think I have the right to know why I was asked to do it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Picard considered this. Geordi had essentially been ordered to go against Starfleet regulations. He wondered, not for the first time, if this was the right course of action. But his instincts were screaming at him not to alert anyone yet. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I didn’t make this decision lightly Commander.” He told him. “From a legal perspective the less you know the better… But you’re right, you do deserve to know more… And while I can’t give you details… It concerns a crew memeber… I’m investigating an… incident… And before I take the matter further and open us up to an official investigation…” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Doing some investigation of your own first?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Exactly.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Does this have anything to do with the kid who ended up in sickbay earlier?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Riker, who had been drumming his fingers on his knee in agitation, stood up and paced the room. “People have been talking about that?” He asked.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p3"><span class="s2">“The other Cadets, according to Barkley… Theres a story about him being injured during a</span> <span class="s1"> Mok'bara lesson with Worf… Worf assured me that wasn’t what happened but was very unwilling to say more.”</span></p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Danm!” Riker snapped. “I’d hoped the gossip wouldn’t start in earnest for a couple of days.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It does concern him.” Said Picard “I can’t talk about other people’s medical information but I’m sure you’ve already got some idea that his… Injuries… Didn’t happen on the ship.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I’d gathered as much Captain… I’m assuming it’s serious?”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“ Very.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Is he going to be ok?”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“ Honestly? We don’t know yet… We need to do what we can to protect this boy for the moment. If you could counter any outlandish gossip with a believable and boring story we’d appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> Geordi nodded, looking thoughtful. “Will do Sir… Anything else?”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“ Thank you Geordi that will be all.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">After Geordi left the room there was tense silence for a few seconds. </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Is he awake yet?” Asked Picard</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Dr Crusher and Deanna woke him earlier but apparently he was hysterical and they had to sedate him again.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Picard pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes against the start of a tension headache. “Did the DNA panel show anything?” </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Dr. Crusher said there was nothing usable, either his rapist was… Careful… Or he showered multiple times and washed it away… Or he…” Riker looked physically sick as he spoke…” bled so much that... ” He waved his hand. Unwilling to say more. </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"> “What did Deanna tell you?”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Just that he was terrified of being sent home… Scared he was in some kind of trouble…He was begging them not to go back. His heart rate skyrocketed and Beverly had to knock him out for his own good.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“He doesn’t trust us.” Picard murmured. “He thinks we’d blame him and send him back rather than protect him.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“ Well he was full of drugs and had just been through a terrible trauma. Kid wasn’t thinking straight.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, but sometimes we speak more truth in delirium than in sobriety Number One… he’s given us valuable insight…We know his biggest fear...”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Riker frowned “Earth… The Academy…” </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Or a person in their vicinity… We also know that he thinks this person has the power to call him home… That we would have the desire to send him…”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Riker spoke the anxiety on Picard’s mind:</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You’re afraid this goes to the top aren’t you? That they’ll try to cover it up.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Picard wasn’t surprised that Riker had picked up on his line of thought, </span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Honestly Number One? I don’t see how he could have arrived here in such a condition without a major failure of some kind by The Academy…I’ve been reading his records…There were multiple chances for them to have caught this… Behavioural incidents with no follow up…Missed medical checks, missed psychological evaluations... The record was… incomplete.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“So why aren’t you reporting their shortcomings to them? If they have a predator in their midst that need to know don’t they?”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“A predator high ranking enough to doctor records might make life very difficult for any accuser… And have friends in high places… We need to be prepared.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Do you have someone in mind?”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe… It’s nothing I can say, or even think too loudly.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Damn!… You sure do know how to find yourself in Starfleet’s doghouse.” Riker smirked.</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Always.” Picard smiled sadly.</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I thought this kind of thing was ancient history.” Riker sighed. “That we’d moved beyond corruption and scandals and nepotism.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You’re an idealist Will.” Picard said. “We may be among the stars but as a species our feet are still clay… Weshall have to watch our step, and I won’t be doing anything until I speak to that boy and see what kind of mental condition he’s in.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">……………………..</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sal didn’t feel the hypospray but there must’ve been one because the next thing he knew he was drifting back into consciousness and the lighting was different, more like evening time. The beeping of the machines had stooped and the sense of panic had subsided. Maybe he’d been allowed to wake naturally this time? He blinked a few times, his eyes felt gritty and his throat was extremely dry. The same odd, numb sensation was present in his body. Although he found, to his relief, that he could move his toes and fingers. So whatever She’d done, the Doctor’s spinal block hadn’t affected his motor skills. He had no wires or tubes attached to him either.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Next to his bed was a chair, and in that chair, reading an old paper book so quietly as to be unnoticeable at first, sat the Captain. The last time that Sal had seen him was up on the walkway at the Academy… With <em>Him…</em></span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The anxiety was back in his body with a sudden sensation almost like a thud, tensing every muscle. He stayed very, very still. He knew he couldn’t feign sleep now but he wanted nothing more than to escape. He shut his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Good evening.” The Captain’s voice was deep, but not loud. “Welcome back to the walking world Cadet Vas.” He didn’t sound angry at all. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sal opened his mouth “Cap...n” he whispered, his cracked lips barely forming the word. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t try to speak…” The Captain said, pressing a button that slightly raised Sal’s head. “Here.” There was a straw at his lips and he drank a sip gratefully. His confusion overcame his fear momentarily. He couldn’t understand how any starship Captain, let alone The great Picard, would deign to wait on someone with no rank.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He knew better than to speak without being spoken to and watched the man with suspicion… He answered to Russell. That Sal knew for sure. He knew and worked for his torturer… <em>Is he here to make sure I keep my mouth shut?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Can I get you a painkiller?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sal slowly Shook his head. Never taking his eyes off the man.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I believe they’ll bring you something to eat later… If you can bare it I would like to I would like to speak with you? Would that be alright?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"><em>Here we go… </em>Sal thought, cringing inwardly… <em>Threaten me…Let me have it… Protect the bastard. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Doctor Crusher informed me that you woke with some anxiety this morning…”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Anxiety? Is that what they’re calling it now? </em> </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That you were very concerned about being sent back to… To Earth.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sal’s heart skipped a beat. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I want you to know that you needn’t be concerned about that possibility…You’re staying here…” The Captain's voice was soft and steady. He looked Sal right in the eye as he spoke.“You’re an official crew member now… You’re perfectly safe... I have a duty of care to my crew and no one on this ship will harm you under my care… Or allow harm to come to you through leaving that care.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sal’s eyes widened. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting. But it wasn’t that. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s a <em>promise</em> Cadet… Am I understood?” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The man looked utterly sincere… And <em>Sad</em>. The sorrow in his face and voice was obvious. A lump sprang unbidden into Sal’s throat and his eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">”I don’t know who inflicted these terrible injuries on you Cadet… I don’t know what threats they made to keep you quiet… But what they did was a pure act of sadistic cowardice…They will <em>never t</em>ouch you or come anywhere near you again if I can prevent it… You <em>are</em> safe here…Do you believe me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The words were firm but the tone was gentle. He nodded reluctantly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Yes..Si…” He couldn’t finish… Couldn’t lie…</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1"> <em> If you knew… If you even believed me…You still answer to Him. To Starfleet. He thought. You might </em> <b> <em>want </em> </b> <em>to help me, but he outranks you too. He could destroy your life and work for helping me…</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He shook his head. Trying not to burst into tears… He could feel his goddam, fucking lower lip trembling like a child’s. He hated himself in that moment. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Picard took his hand between his… He couldn’t feel the pressure of his palms thanks to the spinal block. He was glad of that…If he could he knew he’d start sobbing.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you for your honesty… I can see we need to work on building some trust here.” Picard said with a grim smile. “I understand…” He paused… Thinking deeply for a moment. “I won’t ask you to say anything more about it if you don’t want to… There is <em>nothing</em> being expected of you except to rest and allow your body to heal... Would you like to sleep some more?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Sal had questions… About his Work detail, his grading, his status as a cadet if he wasn’t working… But he just nodded his head. “Yes please Sir.” He murmured. Picard lowered the bed again and let him lie flat. He closed his eyes but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. After a few minutes he heard the sound of the Captain’s voice, measured and reassuring…</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p5"><span class="s3">“</span> <span class="s1">On the first Monday of the month of April, 1625, the bourg of Meung, in which the author of the Romance of the Rose was born, appeared to be in as perfect a state of revolution ….”</span></p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Sal listened to the story until he drifted into sleep. </span>
</p>
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